The Open Door
by Laura Schiller
Summary: Set early in Season 2. One of Regina's first acts of redemption is to set Sydney free.


The Open Door

By Laura Schiller

Based on: Once Upon A Time

Copyright: CBS Studios

Between fearing for her life at the hands of the people she had cursed, tracking down her spell book, getting Henry back and giving him up again, Regina was ashamed to admit that she had forgotten all about her Mirror. It wasn't until three days after the breaking of the curse that she slipped out of her house and drove down to Storybrooke Hospital, her nerves humming on high alert all the while. Since Henry had landed there due to her sleeping curse, and Dr. Whale and his followers had almost torn her to pieces, she liked the place less than ever. Every shadow cast by the fluorescent lights, every echo of her patent leather shoes on the linoleum, put her on edge.

The psychiatric ward was in the basement. _Of course it is_ , she thought bitterly. _This was where I put people I didn't want to be found._ Including a former friend trapped in the form of a monster, an innocent young girl with the misfortune of being loved by Rumpelstiltskin, and an editor too foolishly loyal for his own good. Except that this hadn't been part of her plan.

 _He had a nervous breakdown, ma'am,_ his young assistant had told her breathlessly over the phone. _He was shouting, throwing things … I had to call nine-one-one. I'm sorry._

Through the tiny window set into the concrete door, she could see her former servant curled up on his cot. The harsh light lent a yellowish tinge to his brown skin. She knocked on the thick plastic to get his attention, cautious – not to say afraid – of opening the door.

He looked up. She could see his two lives colliding just by the expression in his eyes. Sydney Glass's familiar _what-now-Madame-Mayor_ look – resentment and respect in equal proportions – was replaced by a bloodshot glare of pure pain.

She pushed the window aside. What could she say to him? She remembered, with one of those moments of vertigo that happened even after twenty-eight years, that she didn't know the Genie's true name. She had kept him enslaved in the mirror without even bothering to find it out.

"Sydney?"

"What do you want?" He asked tonelessly.

 _Is that any way to speak to your sovereign?_ Her old self would have replied, maybe with a magical shove against the wall for emphasis. She made herself recall Henry's disappointed eyes.

"I'm here to let you out, of course," she said brusquely instead. "Provided that you promise not to kill me. I've had enough of that from the townsfolk already, thank you very much."

"Don't bother. I deserve to be here, remember?"

She snorted. "You were never supposed to end up here in the first place. The plan was to get you arrested for kidnapping Katherine. The town jail is no luxury hotel, but at least it's better than this, and you know I would have made sure you got the shortest possible sentence."

"That doesn't matter. I'm … there's something wrong with me."

His accent had changed. She could hear the inflections of Agrabah, the rolling R's, the singsong rhythm. If she closed her eyes, she could almost see him trapped in the mirror again, and it made her almost frantic to get him out.

"So you raised your voice a bit and tossed your laptop out the window, so what? The drugs they give you here won't make you any better. I didn't design this place to cure anyone. You need to get out."

"Don't tell me you've forgotten!" For the first time, some life came into Sydney's voice. It echoed around the concrete walls. "I killed King Leopold, Your Majesty. It may have been your plan, but it was my idea. I murdered the man who set me free, and I wasted my final wish to make myself your slave. I had the chance to save you without bloodshed – send you away from the castle, wipe your memory, anything – but I was too blinded by my love and your manipulation to think straight. If it weren't for me, the curse might never have happened!"

Of course she hadn't forgotten. It was just that her memories of King Leopold's death were slanted – extremely slanted, she could see now. She hadn't credited her Genie with enough free will to consider him guilty. She'd never even stopped to think of that final wish, and what else it might have accomplished instead of trapping him in the world of mirrors.

"For what it's worth," she retorted, "I doubt that sending me away or wiping my memories would have saved me, or Snow White. I started on this path a long time ago."

"I suppose so." Sydney sighed and adjusted the cuffs on his wrinkled shirt, where the Genie's shackles had been once. "And it's been even longer since I forgot how to think for myself. I can't handle freedom, Regina. If there's anything I learned from you, it's that."

 _Can't handle freedom? Does he really think so?_ The curse-induced memories of Mayor Mills asserted themselves with a vengeance, reminding her of her U.S. history classes in high school: drawings of people crammed into ships like sardines in a can, auction lists, clowns in black makeup, murderers in white cone-shaped masks. Whatever one might say about the curse, it had a wicked sense of irony. _Dear gods, what have I done?_

"Oh, yes?" She struck the door with both hands, letting the hollow ring of steel echo down the hall. "Well, if there's anything Ilearned from seeing the curse broken, it's that it's never too late to learn! Do you have any idea what a gift it is to feel remorse, Sydney? For twenty-eight years, I could rip out hearts and ruin lives without feeling anything – until Henry ate the poisoned apple turnover I gave Emma and fell into a sleeping curse that only she could break. That hurts like hell, believe me, but it's a pain I hold on to, so it can remind me never to become that person again!"

He stood up and faced her through the window, eye to eye, anger giving way to a fierce intensity she hadn't seen in him since the day his wish trapped him in the mirror. Looking closely, she spotted the glitter of tears.

"My son hugged me the other day," she confessed softly. "He hugged me _first_ , and I can't even remember if that ever happened before. If someone like me can turn her life around, I promise, so can you."

Sydney opened his mouth and closed it again, speechless. His hand moved to the doorknob. She took the skeleton keys from her pocket, unlocked his cell, and stood back to let him pass.

He was a mess. In the chaos surrounding the breaking of the curse, no one had bothered to get him a change of clothes or, for that matter, a shower. His suit was crumpled like elephant skin, and his short curls had more gray in them than she remembered. But he was smiling, and for the first time in decades, his smile reached his eyes.

She dug inside her purse and handed him the golden oil lamp he had once lived in. He let out a laugh of sheer astonishment. "How did – where did you - "

"I got it from Mr. Gold's shop. Since he brought magic here, you don't want to take any chances."

"Thank you!" He held it up from several angles, polished it with his sleeve, and finally squeezed it into his trouser pocket as far as the unwieldy thing could fit. "Thank you, Regina. What – what was his price?"

"Just a promise never to control you again."

"That's cheap by his standards."

"Yes. I think he can relate to your situation. Remember that dagger of his, after all."

He nodded in sympathy. Regina decided not to add that one less ally for her could only be a good thing for Rumplestiltskin, whether or not the Dark One chose to be on her side.

Sydney made no move to leave, still smiling. It was the Genie's smile, as warm and sincere in its admiration as the day they met. She could almost picture him in his red cloak and jeweled turban, his dark eyes fairly glowing. She'd felt an attraction to him then, and it had terrified her – _love is weakness, my dear,_ her mother had said, crushing Daniel's heart to dust – so much that the terror had only fuelled her determination to kill Leopold and rule the kingdom. It still frightened her when a man looked at her with eyes like that. She had made damn sure Graham never did.

"Why, um … why are you staring at me?"

"There you are," Sydney murmured, in a voice so deep it made her shiver. "It won't be easy to leave, now I've finally found you again."

"What do you mean?"

"The woman I met in the shade of the apple tree," he said. "The woman I fell in love with. I didn't believe she still existed."

"She doesn't," Regina whispered. "Not yet."

"I can see her. Trust me, I'm your mirror." He winked.

To her own astonishment, she found it as hard to move from the spot as he obviously did. She had gotten so used to her loyal, if sarcastic, mirror servant, to the cunning and resourceful chief editor who took the fall for every one of her crimes, that she'd forgotten who he really was: a passionate, kind-hearted man who understood her as few people ever had. She cared for the Genie, more than she'd ever admit. The temptation to keep him by her side was overwhelming.

 _I'm a prisoner because you love me?_ Henry had asked the other day, struggling against the same tree-branch animation spell her own mother had used on her. _That doesn't seem fair._

"I don't know," she forced herself to admit, leading the way down the corridor to the red Emergency Exit sign. "How long I can hold out without using magic. What if I … what if I revert? You don't want to be drawn back into my orbit if that happens. You deserve better than that."

Sydney fell into step with her and bowed his head, agreeing with her, even if he was too kind to say so much out loud. "So … I guess I'd better be going."

"Yes." She gestured for him to climb the narrow stairwell ahead of her. The door shut behind them with a long, wailing creak. "Just so you know, if you cross the city line, you'll turn back into Sydney Glass. You'll forget the Genie – the mirror – all over again."

"I might just take you up on that suggestion," he drawled, glancing over his shoulder as she followed him up the stairs.

 _Don't,_ she almost said, but bit her tongue just in time. If he wanted to forget, that was his choice.

They emerged through the fire door like moles from a tunnel. The spring sunlight was like a blessing on their faces. Trees rustled behind the hospital parking lot; pigeons clustered around a sandwich someone had dropped, cooing happily. Sydney tipped his head back and half-shut his eyes, letting the sunlight turn his skin to gold. Was he remembering his life in the mirror?

"Take care of yourself, Sydney."

"You too, Madame Mayor. It's been an honor."

He hovered in front of her for a moment, his face twitching with indecision. He took her right hand in his, gave her a brisk editorial handshake, then brushed her knuckles with his lips as the Genie would have done.

He let go abruptly and walked away, his open jacket blowing in the wind. To her tear-blurred eyes, it looked the edge of a swirling cloak.


End file.
